Vanish
by SaradasM
Summary: The Winchester brothers have always been the independent sort. But when their travels have them crossing paths with a young hunter with a history of her own, will they be able to put aside their differences and save the day? [Set during Season 1]
1. Chapter 1

She stared somewhat vacantly at the page before her. The book was hand-written, the curling script warring with the elaborate diagrams on the page. The tight fit of the words made reading difficult at best of times.

Fighting off what she was sure was a soon to be migraine, she sat back with a sigh, closing her eyes. 'There was still so much work was left to be done,' she thought. She rubbed her itching eyes, trying to rise above the exhaustion and the headache. It didn't work.

Tired and frustrated, she stood and stalked to the door.

"I'm going out to get some air."

Dean barely cast her a glance, but Sam's eyes followed her out the door, a worried crease marring his forehead.

Sighing slightly, she shut the door. She leaned up against one of the pillars in front of the motel and breathed in the cool night air. It had a clean smell to it despite its proximity to the nearby interstate. It seemed slightly damp tonight, the air somewhat heavy. It made her think that there was a thunderstorm on the horizon. Closing her eyes, she could almost hear the thunderclaps that would accompany such a storm.

She had just started to relax when she heard the door to their motel room open.

"Hey Alice, are you out here?"

She flicked her eyes toward the ceiling in annoyance. Murmuring something like acknowledgement, she stepped around the column and met Sam's gaze. He looked worried. Which, frankly, she couldn't really blame him. She and Dean just could not agree on anything, and every time she would step outside, it was under the threat that she wouldn't come back.

It took quite the guilt trip and some of the saddest puppy eyes Sam could muster to get her and Dean to set aside their animosity for an afternoon to get some research done. Which is where she found out that without her anger as a fuel, she was about to collapse from exhaustion.

Not that she would admit it, of course.

Sam was different, though. Sam had a way of looking at her sometimes that made her think that he could read her completely. The more she tried to shrug things off, the more tenacious he'd become, latching on desperately until the words poured from her mouth in a frenzy.

Tonight was no different. As she stood there, face blank and posture stoic, she felt distant and unreachable. Safe.

That is, until he stepped closer and asked quietly, "What's wrong?"

Simple words, but powerful in their earnesty. For Alisandra, that was hard enough, but something about his eyes always made her fold. Then he grasped her shoulders, giving her an anchor should decide she needed one.

And oh, how lovely would it be to step into that warm circle of arms, to lay her head in that firm chest. To let go of the strong act. To give over control. Just to smell him, maybe taste him...

That thought sent her stepping back from the warmth, back into the cool, crisp reality and away from her idle mind.

"Nothing's wrong," she said. "I'm just tired tonight, that's all."

A lie. It was a dream of hers, a fantasy. Something you wish for and want more than anything, but reality has taught you that you can never have.

And for Alisandra, that wish was for Sam Winchester.

Stepping even further back, towards the arch of their motel room, she grasped the door handle, turning it and stepping inside.

"Let's get this finished. The sooner the book work is done, the sooner the leg work gets done. And the sooner we get out of this wretched town," she said, walking back to her seat.

Sam stood silhouetted in the doorway. She expected him to say something else, but all he did was sigh and continue back toward his laptop, shutting the door behind him with a quiet _s__nick_.


	2. Chapter 2

"Look, Sammy, I can't just keep working like this. You might be able to stay up all night with your nose in a book, but I need food! And sleep! Mostly food!"

Alisandra looked up from her book. She blinked, trying to moisten her dry, red eyes. All of them had stayed up through the night researching local lore and unaccounted disappearances. It surprised her that they'd made it this long uninterrupted. "I can definitely get behind that idea," she said.

Sam kept his head down, but murmured an assent. "I'll stay here, guys," he said. "See if you can bring back some breakfast. And coffee."

"What are we, errand boys?" said Dean gruffly.

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" asked Alisandra. "I think we should make sure the coffee's cold. Special treat just for him." she added with a smirk.

Sam looked up, frowning at them both. "Look, we still have years to go over here," he said, gesturing to the mountains of history books and folders acquired from the local police. "Let's just get some food, get some coffee, and figure out what this thing is. The longer we take, the greater chance of someone else getting taken, too."

"Sam's right," said Dean. "Let's just get breakfast."

He grabbed the keys to the Impala, heading out into the weak dawn light. Alisandra hesitated, looking over at Sam's dark head, before shrugging lightly and following Dean. She pulled the door shut and walked across the grey concrete, kicking a rock absently. She shivered a bit as she climbed into the passenger's seat of the Impala. Dean started the engine, a soft smile crossing his face as she purred into life. He pulled out of the cracked parking lot outside the rundown hotel and started down the road.

After a few moments of only slightly uncomfortable silence, Dean spoke.

"Listen Aly, I understand that you want to ride with us. And I won't deny, you definitely sound like you know what you're talking about. You've got to know that Sam and I grew up with hunting. Our Dad taught us what we needed to know, what we still need to know. He's all books and research, I'm all muscle. Together, we work things out, you know?" he asked.

She nodded, mystified.

"Anyway, what I'm getting at is that I don't see where you're supposed to fit. Since you joined us, you've never had to join us in an actual gank; it's always Sammy and me. Why should we keep letting you come with us? What's gonna stop us from leaving you behind next time we've got to skip town?"

"I know more than you think I do," she said shakily. "I- I can fight. I can. Let me show you what I can do on a hunt before you decide. Please."

He continued on in silence. He pulled the car pulled into a dingy looking diner. The paint on the sign was peeling, the brightly coloured exterior having faded away years ago.

Dean turned the car off, the sudden quiet making her heartbeat sound extraordinarily loud in her ears. He looked at her hard, silently judging her worth, deciding if she was worth the chance. The risk. She held her breath.

"Fine," he said. "But we don't need an extra mouth to feed. If you're going to ride with us, you've gotta pull your own weight. If you can't hunt, then you might as well be another civilian."

"I understand," she whispered.

"Good. Let's get some breakfast," Dean said, climbing out of the car. She watched him walk to the door before shaking herself into action. She had to prove herself worthy; might as well start with breakfast.

Breakfast was a bit of a stretch; the eggs were cold, the bacon was limp and greasy, and the coffee was a joke. Still it was something for everyone to eat (courtesy of Mr. Issac Sarkin, the latest credit card fraud victim).

As they chewed slowly, Sam suggested taking shifts on the work, that way they wouldn't risk missing something important in their drowsiness. Alisandra agreed, offering to take the first shift. Sam looked surprised, but Dean looked at her with something like approval. They both marked where they were in their respective paperwork and fell into an almost instantaneous slumber.

Alisandra looked longingly at their sleeping forms, already regretting the suggestion. "Can't let them down, though. I can't be left behind," she whispered. 'Not again,' her mind added silently.

She shuffled over, grabbed her notes and a cup of bitter coffee, and went to sit outside. She figured that by sitting out in the briskness of a fall morning, she might be able to fight off the tiredness better than in the warm hotel room. She sat, flipping through the pages, scanning for anything beyond the usual oddity. A few key words jumped out at her, but after taking a moment to read further, it ended up being nothing.

Hours passed in a haze of scanning and turning, scanning and turning. She was utterly exhausted and still no closer to finding anything useful. She shut her books and rubbed her eyes hard. She tilted her head back, trying to mute the steady throb of the headache that had set up residence a few hours prior.

She thought back to when they first showed up in this shoddy little town. It was old coal country, deep in the Appalachia's, a town better forgotten to the history books. A place deep in the foothills of Virginia, with more folk tales than actual history, with stories passed down through families. Definitely a place that didn't take kindly to outsiders, especially those showing up asking about cold spots and sulfur.

They had originally showed up here due to a series of mysterious disappearances. The person would suddenly get up and walk into the woods as if they were possessed by something, disappearing for days. After exactly one week had passed, they'd come back home, acting as though nothing had happened, ignorant of the week they'd been gone. It was an oddity, but since they always came back, the local police didn't pursue it.

The Winchesters, however, did so. They had heard about it back in Michigan, and had set out for it. On the way, they'd stopped in a little town called Hope, Indiana. It was there that Alisandra had joined them. She had needed a hand with a Woman in White, and had asked to stick with them on their trip.

Along the way to Virginia, they had stopped to assist a few hunters along the way. Alisandra had helped with the hunts, but had not had the opportunity to actually directly fight. No opportunity to prove herself.

And so, they continued.

And now that they were here, it seemed as though they couldn't find a thing.

'How am I supposed to show that I belong here if we can't even find the thing responsible?' she wondered.

Suddenly sitting up, she had an idea. She stood up and ran into the hotel room. She moved over to the side of Sam's bed and crouched down.

"Sam," she whispered. "Wake up."

"Don't wake him," said a deep voice. "It's my shift first."

Alisandra turned her head, balancing on the balls of her feet. Dean sat at the table near the kitchenette, bent over a photocopy from a yellowing newspaper. "What have you found?" he asked.

"Nothing from the papers," she said quietly. "But I was thinking, the people are forgetting that they're gone... What if they haven't forgotten? What if they never knew they'd left at all?"

"That makes no sense, Aly," Dean said flatly, turning back to the article.

"No, it does," she said intently. "What if they aren't the same people that left, but just copies? What if the real people are still in the woods?"

Dean's eyes unfocused, drifting past her to the wall behind her. "But that doesn't explain the possessions," he muttered.

"But it's a start, right?" she asked.

He looked at her. "It's a stretch, but it's a start."

"What are you thinking?" she asked him.

His lips tightened. "If your thinking is right, we're probably looking at some Shifters."


End file.
